A Marked Man
by 1000feathers
Summary: The events of our past will always stay with us. Remy-centered. Some cussing.


_Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men_

_This is a Remy Lebeau centered story, with hints of Sinister presence. If you like that sort of thing, go check out my C2 "Demon Eyes." It is mostly nonslash, but there are a few same sex pairings. Just no Sinister/Remy stuff. Also, I have tried to keep the Romy stories in the minority. Any of them that were put in are really good. At least in my opinion. And now that I have finished rambling, let's get on with the ficcage._

**A Marked Man**

A girlish shriek interrupted the warm summer day, followed by a large splash. Rouge's cheeks flamed red, even as she glared at the object of her ire. "You," she sputtered. "You no good lousy thief." She couldn't believe he had groped her.

Gambit merely laughed as he spat out the mouthful of water he had acquired during his abrupt entrance to the pool. Rouge had thrown him a good fifteen feet. He gave the other southerner an appreciative look, admiring her assets. "Totally worth it," he murmured, strong strokes taking him quickly to the side of the pool.

The Cajun easily pulled himself out of the water, rising to his feet with an instinctive grace. Remy shook his body in a manner reminiscent of a dog, sending drops of water flying everywhere. Not that it did all that much good. His hair was still soaked, the auburn locks plastered to his head in thick strands.

One hand came up to shove the bangs out of his face, and Gambit grinned at the young woman. He didn't look guilty about his actions in the least. But then, what else was new?

After a moment more, Rouge's eyes softened. She picked up a towel, running it briskly through the thief's hair. Suddenly she frowned, a hint of color catching her eye. "What's this sugar?" she asked, reaching towards the half-hidden design. "You never told me you had a tattoo."

Remy stiffened abruptly, pulling away from the woman. "It's nothin' for you to be concerned about," he brushed her off.

The other looked a bit hurt. "I was just curious," she said, stepping towards him.

"I said leave it Rouge!" the Cajun snapped as he knocked her hand away. Spinning on his heels, he stalked towards the mansion.

"Hey Gumbo," Logan called from his place by the barbecue. "Where you going? The burgers aren't done yet."

Remy glanced back at the feral mutant briefly before yanking the door open. "Ain't hungry," he snarled. It was an effort not to slam the door closed behind him. Once inside the mansion, it didn't take the thief long to reach the sanctuary of his room, closing that door as well.

For several minutes, the Cajun just stood there, slumped against his bedroom wall. Finally though, he straightened, walking over to the mirror. Remy had no illusions. For all the X-men's talk of starting over and second chances, he knew the marks of his past would always be with him. Many of them were not visible to the naked eye, others however were.

Slender fingers rose to push the strands of auburn hair aside, exposing the tattoo. It was nothing fancy, or even overly large. The mark wasn't really meant to be seen. It was just a small red diamond, placed right behind his left ear. Though really, calling it a tattoo was being generous. Gambit knew what it really was, a brand. The kind you would put on a head of cattle.

Remy hated that design with a passion. He had tried just about everything save pouring sulfuric acid on his skin to get it off, but nothing had worked. Hell, for all he knew, the damn thing had been inserted into his genetic code. Unsurprising really, when Sinister fucked a body over, he didn't do things halfway.

The Cajun could almost hear the man's voice. Telling him that he was a fool. That Gambit would always belong to him. And the more insidious whispers. Did Remy really think the X-Men would truly accept his past misdeeds if they knew of them? The final straw though, was when he looked into the mirror, and saw the devil's eyes shining back.

With a scream of rage, Remy punched the glass, uncaring of the blood that dripped down his hand. A choked sob escaped his throat as he slid to the floor, his fury spent. Someday, the thief swore to himself. Someday he would find a way to free himself, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

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_And I hope you enjoyed this story_


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